


A Ghost's Dilemma

by mellowcholy



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Family Dynamics, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, One Shot, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:28:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29791227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellowcholy/pseuds/mellowcholy
Summary: major spoilers for March 1st Stream!!a relatively quick scene starting from just before Tommy's death to his first experience in the afterlife:As the bad memories fade from the amnesic ghost's account, Tommy is finally free from the hands of his abuser. With his past forgotten, he can live anew and gets an opportunity to rekindle his relationship with someone who claims to be his brotherHis ghost form and memories are still unstable, and he's vulnerable in this phantom form. Maybe he's not as free as he thought...
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	A Ghost's Dilemma

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! :D  
> After watching the stream I had a sudden motivation to write a little bit  
> It's been a while since I've done any sort of writing so I'm sorry if its awkward  
> This'll probably just be a oneshot unless I decide to continue it, I have an idea for writing more but I don't know if I'll have the motivation to continue with it  
> I've also never posted on here so I'm not sure if I'm doing it right haha
> 
> anyway, this is pretty short but there's some really angsty content in there so buckle up  
> Hope you enjoy :>

“Why don’t you go see him in the afterlife?” Dream’s words pounded against Tommy’s head almost harder than the punches he threw. Again and again, until Tommy’s vision was stained with the deep red of his blood. Frantic, Tommy begged and pleaded to be shown mercy. Pandora’s Box swirled around him as he put every last remaining ounce of energy into not succumbing to the prisoner’s blows. He refused to have Dream be the last thing he ever saw. To have him be his last memory. 

Being trapped in this damned box had been a harrowing experience, his security constantly threatened by everything around him. Despite the obstruction of vision, Tommy’s eyes frantically searched for some bit of comfort, but to no avail. The flowing lava reflected a ghost of himself with lost eyes and a hollow soul. In the corner resided the dead body of the cat he watched himself kill. The confined space, the isolation, the constant surge of memory. Even the walls cried with him. Worst of all was the person opposed to him with a smiling mask, who has been the one to impose all of these fears onto him. Tommy dared not call this creature a man, as it would imply there was at least a smudge of humanity in his hideous body. 

To Tommy, the smile plastered on the creature’s mask was a harsh reminder of all he and the rest of the server had endured. It mocked him. This beast doesn’t deserve the anonymity, he doesn’t deserve to be able to hide from the destruction he brought upon this world. If Tommy was to do one thing before he died, it would be to look the masked man directly in the eyes. Gathering all of his remaining strength, he grabbed for the mask. To his surprise, the prisoner let him pull at it, but his strength had left him. Tommy’s arm continued to strain for the clasps, desperately undoing them while darkness bled into his eyesight. 

Dream’s mask hit the ground at about the same time that Tommy did. The cold hard obsidian soothed his aching inflamed body. In his last seconds, he willed his gaze to match that of the being that towered over his crumpled body. He began to lightly chuckle to himself, but the movement sent flames through his chest. After all of his attempts, Dream was the last thing he would see in the end. This was inevitable, he thought, it was to happen eventually. There was no point in dragging it out this long, at least now he could die near his homeland instead of out in exile. What difference would it make anyway? There’s no one by his side either way. 

His eyes met Dream’s for a brief moment. A fear coursed through his veins that made him wish he never looked. The grinning face stared back at him, smiling perhaps even wider than the mask. Death, he accepted, is perhaps the only way to truly escape the malicious demon in front of him. Then, it all went black.

Darkness. Emptiness. Nothingness.

He was nowhere, and yet he was everywhere. The black of death enveloped him in a gentle hug. It was soft and smelt like home. Maybe death wasn’t all as bad as it’s made out to be. After all, this wasn’t his first cannon life. In fact, he’s died countless times before, all of which followed by a routine of him waking up the next morning in his bed. This time, however, there was no bed. No more home to wake up in. That was it.

Behind him, a familiar voice echoed, “I thought you might have lived for a little longer...” The voice laughed with forced happiness, but it was clear that despair scratched at the owner’s throat. That voice… Who did it belong to again?

“I-,” Tommy stuttered, not expecting the hollowness in his own voice. His voice was strained and raspy, unlike that of the man behind him, whose sound was soft and welcoming. Trying to muster up words, he found that it hurt to make noise. The pain from before hadn’t fully lifted, he realized after the initial shock had settled. Blood still trickled down his face, and his body, although translucent, was bruised and frail. Why was he in this pain? Since when did he look like this? Question after question filled his mind.

Turning to face the familiar figure, Tommy was met with another question. “W-Who are-” He managed to choke up before his mouth leaked with a crimson liquid. It was clear the other ghost didn’t expect Tommy to turn out like this. Tommy and the ghost looked almost like different species, but it was only natural due to the cause of death. The ghost that stood opposed to Tommy had only a deep hole in his chest from, presumably, a sword. A swift, merciful death. Tommy, however, was tortured for a week before his brutal murder. His body was mangled and broken after the physical stress he endured. 

“You mean you don’t remember? Honestly, how could you forget your own br-” The ghost stopped himself from continuing at his realization. Full of immediate regret, he looked down at his feet, “You know… when I first came here all I could remember were the good memories. Everything bad had been completely blocked out of my mind. Now, of course, I remember…” He took a deep breath, obviously not comfortable with coming to terms with his actions. He tried looking back at Tommy, but tears formed at the sight. Immediately looking away, he continued, “I’m sorry… I never got the chance to apologize to you.” 

The ghost put his hand on Tommy’s head, furrowing his matted blond hair, and gave an open-tooth smile, “No need to be so dramatic, though. It’s nice to see you again Tommy.” Choking to hold back tears, he failed to put up an impressive nonchalant facade.

Despite the tears streaming down the figure’s face, he smiled warmly at the sight of his brother. He despised Dream for what he did to him, and hated himself even more for not being there to save him. At least now, they’re together again. “You can call me Wilbur.”


End file.
